At the foot of the master... {flashback}

[That Guy]

Cold winds roared encouraging large clouds of fallen snow to drive against the stoney faces of the ones gathered here on the white plateua. Five men standing around in a circle about twenty-five meters in radius while staring towards the center with vacant expressions. Among them was Modoka who glanced briefly to his sides to eye up the other men and their weapons in hand. On either side of him, both men each held a katana before them and at the ready. On the opposite side and to the right one man held a bow strung and notched with an arrow. The last man merely held a large axe that resembled something an executioner might implement in his duties. Modoka himself held two rapiers in his gloved hands crossing them before him and letting their tips rest just above the fallen snow.

Further out of the circle and looking in stood another six men clad in extravegent iron hides. A luxury the other's had not earned yet as the cold tore at their clothes. The leader of the six outside wore a splendorous helmet with his armor designating him far more important than the rest. His voice soon boomed across the snow with commanding power and strength of character. "Let me start by congratulating you all on a job well done. You have all been accepted into our order with great pride and high hopes for your future. Today, we will be assigning you each a master to train under and learn the ways of the samurai. It is at their recommendation that we have now gathered on this field so they can witness your abilities first hand for themselves and then choose who they will mentor. This will be a non lethal training of combat, you may spill blood and you may render each other unconscious. If any lives are lost today the ones responsible will be cast out from the order without any questions. Understood?"

Modoka looked around the circle and could not hide a small grin as he watched the fresh samurai take countermeasures for the non lethal adjustment. The tip was snapped from the archer's arrow, the swordsmen laid their katanas on the snow before drawing out old practice swords, even the 'executioner' unscrewed the head off of his axe giving him a large solid staff instead. He too would make preparations quickly sweeping his blades through the snow before unearthing two thin sturdy sticks somewhat comparable in length to his rapiers. He resheathed his own rapiers silently before giving each stick a quick twirl and lunging test to familiarize himself with their weight and dimensions.

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[That Guy]

SPOILER: Click to show

Combat!

"Well?" The voice called again hollow but gentler this time, "What are you all waiting for? START!" A sharp CRACK rang out as the leader clapped his armored hands together with thunderous effect. In an instant action began on every side of the circle. The notched arrow was raised and loosed straight for Modoka's forehead while simultaneously the two swordsman on either side of him bolted towards him and raising their katanas strike.

But the young man was prepared...

Having been filled with anticipation and anxiety for this coming battle, Modoka quickly whirled one of the sticks in his hand out before him. The incoming arrow was redirected instantly off the expertly wielded stick following it's new flight to strike true against the hand of the man on his left. He growled as he fumbled to hold his katana firmly, but with his assault delayed Modoka turned his attention swiftly to the swordsman to his right. The man swung down powerfully with the katana but Modoka raised his free stick slapping the side of the man's katana (mid swing) to the left while stepping himself to the right.

With a crack the wooden sword came down on the shoulder of the other swordsman who roared and cursed as he gained a sure grip of his blade again striking back repeatedly against the one who had struck him. As this transpired Modoka continued to take a few cautious steps back from the two and peer between them to the others. The archer was now preoccupied with the executioner who had bore down on him whirling about his sturdy staff with surprising elegance as the archer danced back lightly across the snow to avoid being struck.

Turning his head, Modoka cast a cautious glance back at their audience. Safely spaced back from the fight, the six armored samurai now huddled together observing carefully and exchanging quiet words. They made comments referring to the fighters out of earshot but no fighter seemed to have attracted enough interest from the masters yet. Of course this was only the beginning and they would soon choose their own personal favorites and debate among themselves which student each master wanted and deserved. For once in Modoka's life he felt worth something and he smiled fleetingly at the feeling while he had the moment to spare.

SPOILER: Click to show

Tap Away
Rank: D [25]
Type: Defensive.o
Range: 0-5 Meters.
Chakra: Low.
Special: By utilizing their quick reflexes and slender blade, the user can speedily smack away any basic attack one rank lower than 'Exquisite Counter' and leave an opening to step in with a return of their own. Please keep in mind the deflection must be realistic, as it is impossible to redirect large, area covering objects or abstract concepts, such a meteors, giant monsters, streams of fire, lightning bolts, love, emotions, the meaning of life, sexuality, etc.
Description: The most basic of all deflection techniques, a simple smacking away with a bit of force. Made possible by a combination of a strong wrist movement, firm grip and the design of a slender sword. When confronted with a basic level attack, the user watches the direction it's coming and simply taps it a bit to send it of course. Once moved, this leaves an immediate opening for the user to strike with their own technique.
Domain: The Gentleman's Art, Exquisite Counter "D"



Flying Parry
Rank: C [50]
Type: Defensive.
Range: -
Chakra: Mid.
Special: A technique in which the user applies their melee countering abilities to a ranged threat. By watching the trajectory in which it approaches and the velocity it travels at, the user deduces the proper form and amount of push to send the object hurling safely away from them. The user's 'Exquisite Counter' rank determines the distance they can possibly deflect, with the 'D' rank starting at 10 meters, and each extra rank adding 10 more. Deflecting moves in a straight line whereever the user aims, and retains the same speed it originally carried on its way to the user. Can deflect up to one (1) object at a time, plus one more each time retrained up to a maximum of five.
Description: A practiced technique that allows the user to transfer what they know about blocking melee attacks on to deflecting away ranged ones. The tricky part comes with learning how to judge speed and angle but that comes with time. Eventually the user learns how to whip their sword about in a way that stops most things in the air from reaching them.
Domain: The Gentleman's Art, Exquisite Counter "C"

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[That Guy]

WHOOOOOSH! Modoka turned back at the roar of wind in time to see but not understand, as the large staff of the executioner was thrown spinning horizontally along the ground swatting the two swordsmen flying through the air before continuing on to strike him as well. He sailed through the air just managing to shield his head with his arms before being buried in the snow. For a moment the young man simply laid in the snow relishing the cold comfortably numbing snow knowing the pain would only be worse than it already felt. But more yelling could be heard accompanied with the clash of metal against metal and with sheer force of determination and will Modoka pussed up and off of the ground.

Sure enough as he rose to his feet and the snow fell from his body the pain began to return as his whole body seemed to surge with pain. He looked up and across watching the others fighting for a moment and regaining some semblance of what was going on. The swordsman had for some reason abandoned their practice swords and now wielded their drawn katanas with eyes that bled fury and hate. The archer was now performing an assortment of acrobatic tumbles and flips to dodge the heavy flowing swings of the executioner's axe. He retaliated by occasionally throwing shuriken at the much larger man but he merely rebuffed the small projectiles with the flat of his axe.

Everyone seemed in a hostile mood, angry at one another. They had all transitioned to lethal weapons in the heat of the battle rather swiftly for what was supposed to be a non lethal competition. Were they all so sure of their skills that they would risk using weapons that could actually kill one another? Or... Modoka became aware sudenly though that he too had lost his sticks which had most likely sailed off into the snow.

"Oh... well that makes sense then," he mumbled before with a snapping flick of his wrist he withdrew his rapiers from his sides twirling them expertly at his sides as they whispered silently through the air. It was just in time too as the executioner, having finally been struck by one of the archers shuriken roared and managed a rage driven two handed swing with the flat of his axe. The archer flew threw the air back smashing the katanas of the swordsman away and landing with an impressive graceful tumble in the snow rolling back to his feet agilely. As he did he quickly withdrew the unstrung bow from his back holding it before him like a bent quarter staff.

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[That Guy]

Modoka grinned like a wolf as he charged the man and his makeshift bow staff who in turn raised the staff and brought it heavily downwards at the young man's head. Raising his own rapier though he stuck the tip of the stick with the point of his rapier, causing the thin metal blade to bend to the right and divert the staff to narrowly miss him. Before the man could comprehend the subtle art of the deflection his face was met full on with the intricate metal work of the basket guard that coiled about the other fist. Contact was simple, subtle, and highly unexpected staggering the archer backwards a few steps. Even during those steps however Modoka pressed on at the same speed takign a short leap and raising his knee to crash into the archer's stomach. The man keeled over gasping for breath, but the assault was not quite finished as Modoka stepped to the side of him before bring the hilt of his rapier cracking into the back of his head propelling him to the snow and earth face first.

Casting a cursory glance back towards the other three, it was clear the pair of swordsman had suddenly become preoccupied with the much larger and more menacing threat of the execution who bore down upon them. It seemed that for the moment they had set their agression for each other aside and now ran in weaving patterns towards the man striking swiftly before retreating in intervals seeking to find weakness. "Not good," Modoka muttered quietly to himself, "if they continue to work together... they'll soon be each other's only competition."

He looked down at his feet where the fallen archer lay in the snow completely immobile. Modoka gently nudged the archer with his foot, but the man didn't react or move at all. Modoka turned again to steal a glance back at the samurai masters who were staring at him and the archer now muttering among themselves inaudibly. "No fucking way did you just die on me!" Modoka growled quietly as he drove his heel down on the man's back, this time rewarded by the sounds of the man's suffering. He smiled and concluded, "That's more like it. As long as you're not dead you can stay down for a bit and ice your head in the snow to reduce the swelling. Just don't go and get me kicked out of the order already."

He twirled his rapiers about the air whimsically once more, as he looked again to the other three in their heated combat. The swordsman were driving the executioner further and further away from Kiyoshi striking from either side as he frantically shifted his axe to shield from their blades. He looked as though he were going to counter against them with his own attack but could never quite prove fast enough to strike before once again being forced to shield with his weapon. The swordsman that had once proven easy to manipulation were now testifying to the skill, strength, and speed they had used to become samurai even of the lowest caliber. Breaking their assault on the executioner would require finesse, cunning, and... a really big stick!

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[That Guy]

With some sort of divine inspiration for a plan, Modoka quickly whirled about until he spied the large staff the executioner had thrown so savagely standing upright at an angle in the snow. The man had been wise to forsake the staff in favor for a smaller more defensive weapon while fighting the archer, but against either swordsman it would be advantageous to make use of superior range. The madness slowly formed into a plan more than likely to fail but so far this sort of thinking had given him a fairly strong edge in the competition.

He ran over to the staff sheating his blades silently before coming to a stop and with both hands heft the heavy weapon from the snow. As he did he turned about and eyed the combat, sure enough the swordsman were keeping up their assault and the executioner was beginning to look tired. Time was of the essence to shift the balance of power and keep the fight going fair, as Modoka lined up the polearm to point directly at the executioner. He began counting the rhythm and striking order of the swordsman recognizing the flow of their movements and style with in mere seconds before getting a rough idea of where they would be by the time his plan was set in motion.

Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! His boots pounded and packed the snow beneath him as he took off with a dead on sprint. The staff was a much larger weapon than he was used to but he wasn't planning on using it as a weapon as he maintained it's target true whilst charging. This was what the heroes in the stories always had done, daring and stupid things that should never have worked but they did!

One of the swordsman who had just stepped back for his momentary respite from the assault turned in time to see the charging duelist and his large stick and stepped sideways swinging to strike Modoka. But the only reward he would recieve was the solid reverberation of his blade digging into wood. Modoka had planted the staff into the ground and rode his own momentum to bring the staff into an upright standing position with him perched on top a good seven feet in the air.

No sooner had the katana struck his perch then he sprung forward from the staff diving through the air to tackle the other swordsman from behind into a tumbling roll through the snow. The two grappled and struggled in the snow for a moment before the swordsman kicked Modoka square in the chest sending him careening back through the air a meter into the snow. Not exactly as planned, but it could've been far worse.

[That Guy]

The cunning duelist lay on his back in the snow for an instant before swinging his legs into the air and rolling back onto his neck and shoulders. With a powerful contraction of muscles he flung his body back onto its feet. Having stuck his landing he became instantly aware of the threat before him as the swordsman that had kicked him through the air was now charging head on at him. His eyes shone with a fierce determination and his hands rested delicately on the katana at his side. Calm and Poised, he would not be so easy to best in a competition of skill this time.

With hardly any time to react his rapiers sang through the air before ringing out together as the blades made an "X" before the duelist. It was known for defensive properties that he would use to defend against the single katana. As the blade swung across horizontally, the X was shifted to catch the blade in one of the four angles the X caused. Using this finite angle and lifting the X, the katana was redirected to silently reach for death but above the short fencer's head. The man bellowed with feral tones and again struck. This time the blade descended in a straight line down towards his head. Again, the duelist redirected the strike to his left as he side stepped right.

The man's head turned following his movement and again he roared now nearly in the face of his adversary. But, before he could follow his outcry with a vicious strike his shouting was ended with a dull and painful THUD! Modoka had thrust his head straight forward through the X of his rapiers and headbutted the swordsman's face. He fell back limp and into a puff of snow as Modoka turned away to look back on the rest of the combatants muttering darkly, "Shut the fuck up..."

He lifted the cold intricate metal guard of one of his rapiers to his head to reduce the pain and swelling where his head had struck the other swordsman. His ears were ringing and his head was swimming, but he still had the consciousness to look about him and notice the battle. It was clear the executioner was having a much easier time with only one swordsman, but was still having difficulty putting the energetic swordsman down without fatally harming him. Modoka risked another chancy glance back over his shoulder, the judges were leaning over to one another discussing the fight it seemed. It was time to bring this to a close before his hands became so numb in this cold that he would no longer be able to wield his rapiers in such artful forms.

[That Guy]

With a running start he took off straight for the fight, rapiers gripped tight and eager for what was to come next. As he sprinted the two fought on, distracted by the immediate threat of each others lethality. The executioner was of course playing cautious and powerful, swinging wide in order to keep the swordsman at safe distance. The swordsman bobbed up and down side stepping and weaving around to avoid the giant man's attacks. It appeared to be something of a stalemate, the swordsman unable to get close enough to strike and the executioner too slow to land a winning blow. It was time for an outside influence to determine this fight and Modoka had the beginning of a plan in his head. Though he knew very well that he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing he hoped for bonus points in creativity for what he would do beyond the foreseen plan.

Dropping to his knees and leaning back as he fell, he slide along the snow covered ground. Skidding between the executioner's legs he expertly drove his rapiers through both of the executioners feet pinning him to the ground for a moment. The executioner's roar of pain surprised the swordsman who looked for the source of the large man's pain only in time to see the to sole of Modoka's boot. For the cunning duelist had instinctively recognized the look of confusion and surprise on the swordsman's face and reacting quickly sprung up off the ground and planted his foot square in the swordsman's face.

Kicking off the swordsman powerfully, he drove him to the ground with a solid boom before again he acted on instinct. As he rose up from the man's face he had used as a platform he curled up doing a partial somersault forward in the air. Using the roar to locate roughly were the executioner's head would be he shot his legs back in a powerful drop kick. He wasn't as accurate as he had hoped for his feet missed the giant's face but struck him powerfully in the adam's apple! The roar quickly transmuted into a gurgle and the momentum of the blow was enough to drive him back. That is, he would've been driven back if he still had the capability to life his feet but having them literally pinned to the ground the man merely bent backwards at the knees as the back of his head slammed into the ground with another solid boom.

Modoka fell. Unaware of just how lucky his maneuver had been and free falling too the ground without foresight of the fall he did what any man would do. Flailed like a man! Again! Again he found himself face down in the snow, but this time he sprung up wildly swinging his arms and fists about in a horrible boxing stance. It took him a moment of looking about in confusion before he realized that both his foes had been effectively leveled with enough force to keep them down and out of the fight.

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[That Guy]

Steel rang out through the cold still air. Modoka turned about sharply to look towards the source and found himself looking to the samurai who had been judging the competition. The leader had drawn both his katanas and struck them together before holding them up into the air and letting them sing out. "The fight is over. Help your fellow initiates to their feet while we discuss your futures." It was a strange thing to say, but spoken with some conviction and seriousness that it humbled Modoka. Something told him, that as silly as 'discussing his future' sounded, it couldn't have been a more serious topic for the samurai.

Modoka quickly hurried to retrieve his rapiers from the executioner's feet. With a quick tug he jerked the thin blades free of the ground and flesh they had so effectively pinned to the ground. He then reached down and taking the hand of the giant hefted much of his weight upwards until the man stood upright of his own strength, though awkwardly balancing on his heels. "Sorry about your feet, guy. I hope there are no hard feelings but if there was anyway of stopping you I had to draw a little blood."

The man actually smiled at Modoka and instead of releasing his hand gave it a solid handshake that shook the small duelist's whole body. "Ha, this is nothing. Just a little sore, but I've been knocked around my share plenty. Besides, I was getting so damn frustrated with those other other swordsman just dodging. I was getting pretty close to just saying 'sod it all' and taking their legs clean off!" He laughed heartily releasing Modoka's hand and finishing with, "By the way, my name is Rengore and let me be the first to congratulate you on a great fight."

"Ha. Then I congratulate you as well Rengore. I merely avoided you and let the others get caught up with fighting you until I saw opportunity. The fact that you fought each and every one of us until you fell at last should prove testament to your strength. My name is Modoka, and I would love to talk with you more but first I think we should get the others off the ground."

"Agreed."

And so the peculiar pair set out to get the others off the ground and out of the snow. Modoka quickly ran to the nearest swordsman he had kicked in the face and hefted him to his feet. "Sorry about that mate." But the swordsman frowned and turned away in bitter spite. Shrugging Modoka still carried him towards the rest of the group which proved to be a comical sight. For the other swordsman and the archer now sat shivering on the executioner's shoulders for having been down in the cold so long. Their arms hugged their chests for warmth and together the recruits awaited their assignments. Of all the tests and training Modoka had gone through, this had been the most brutal and feral. His body trembled but not from the cold, merely the after effects of adrenaline coupled with the excitement of uncertainty. He couldn't wait to see what would come next.

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[That Guy]

Snow began to fall light at first but within minutes the snow fell so hard it screened much of After sometime the masters began to separate, and one by one broke off from the main group of samurai before stepping heavily with ease through the thick snow. One by one the recruits were taken aside and spoken too by one master momentarily. After a brief discussion the recruit would follow their new master off into the distance until the newly falling snow whited them out of view. Eventually only two samurai lords and both Modoka and Rengore remained.

The two warriors approached their apprentices together before coming to a stop five meters away. A brief moment of silence followed before the first samurai's voice beckoned, "Come Rengore. The wind is howling and old bones are aching to be done with this place. You're training begins now. Lead the way home while blocking the frigid winds for me."

Rengore laughed heartily, "As you wish master, which way is home?" Rengore hefted his war axe onto his shoulder and side stepped around the samurai to block the frigid winds with his body. It was clear Rengore didn't mind the cold, and his massive frame was essentially a wall diverting the wind around his new master.

"If I didn't tell you which way home was when I explained the rules of this small challenge, what makes you think I'd tell you at all? Now march you massive brute before I cut you into a warm coat to get me home comfortably in this blizzard" The samurai was smaller but shoved Rengore with nothing but his forefingers, and shocking pushed the man not only backwards but through the air a meter to fall backwards in the snow. Rengore quickly collected himself and starting marching in the direction he best judged to find the samurai compound.

"Good luck, Rengore. I hope when we next meet your not a beautiful coat!" Modoka called after the pair before they faded from view. Then he turned and looked to the last samurai who merely stood looking back in silence. He didn't move in the slightest or say anything at all. A strange samurai in his own right, he had different armor just like all the other had. But he was robed, draped in thick brown folds of cloth and a crimson hood that rose over his head and shadowed all of his facial feature above mid nose height.

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[That Guy]

"So, are we just going to stand here staring at one another or can we make our back to the compound as well? Because I'm starting to freeze my ass off over here." Modoka wasn't lying either in any sense. The winds were getting so cold now that the fifteen minutes of freezing winds and snow had left all of his legs and arms numb. He began to clap his hands together trying to encourage the circulation of blood while stomping his feet in the snow. He looked down at the rest of his body rubbing his arms vigorously. "Master, I can't feel most of my body I'm growing concerned that I'm going to die out here with an old man that could be mute, deaf, or even both!"

"Good," His answer was soft and cold, but his actions were the exact opposite. His hand reached to his shoulder grasping the spear that rested there. In a burst of speed and power, he wrenched the spear over his shoulder bending the shaft from the torque alone. He rushed towards Madoka, who numb and frozen only managed to shield his face only to have the blunt of the pole arm brought slamming across his chest blasting him somersaulting backwards through the air.

Madoka did managed somehow to miraculously land upright on his feet though still skidding backwards through the snow. He quickly fumbled numbly with the handles of his rapiers while struggling to maintain his balance on lead legs. Looking up from the ground he saw the samurai had already closed the distance in what must have been an instant, somersaulting forward through the air and bringing the shaft of the spear hurtling downwards at the duelist's face.

Modoka quickly formed the X defense above his head, but his fingers couldn't grasp the hilts with strength in the frigid winds. The defense bought him precious moments but again the blunt of the spear came cracking down this time upon his beloved face. The blow was in fact so powerful, fast, and above all devastating that had Madoka had the heightened perception required, it would've been the last thing he saw before the shadows enveloped his vision.

[That Guy]

The dreams of dying and mostly frozen men are tricky things to discern. Sometimes they dream of internal desires: pretty women, money and wealth, but most likely a nice warm beach given their circumstances. At other times their dreams are reflections of their own feelings, thoughts, and overall character. The most common things for freezing men to dream about are the same as the ones normal every day people dream about. Absolute nonsense.

Modoka was falling head first. He didn't remember how he had gotten into this predicament and it really didn't matter. He was bursting through clouds like a bullet trailing smoke from his feet momentarily before bursting on fire without actually burning. Looking straight down he realized he was so high he couldn't even see the ground he knew was expecting him. It was confusing, terrifying, and exhilarating. Perhaps most notable was that it made him feel warm and happy for some undefined reason.

"Hey brother!" Modoka quickly turned about in the air to see a much larger humanoid meteorite cruising beside him. "I don't suppose you have any ramen, or some sort of drink for the ride down do you? I didn't bring a snack and god only knows how long of a trip this is going to be! Hahahahahahahaha!" He roared as he seemed to propel downwards even faster than Modoka suddenly by nothing more than his own will power!

The rush of air from the behemoth's sudden acceleration tore at Modoka who began flailing his arms wildly in the air trying to maintain control. But the speed of his fall and the uncoordinated flailing of his arms sent him spiraling and careening about until he was free fall tumbling through the air. No control and no reason Modoka heard his own voice, "Well that's no good, I seem to have lost all control of the situation."

As shocked as he was to hear his own voice calm and smooth about the dire situation, he was even more shocked when he tumbled back to face downwards. The ground that had been absent only a second before hand was suddenly inches from his face and before comprehension there was sound. The crash of cymbals rang through out the air and Modoka found himself blinded by a cloud of... cinnamon? His tongue stuck out as though it were snowing and tasted the red cloud. It was definitely cinnamon.

"I could really use some coffee," he heard himself say, again leaving his conscious thoughts behind frozen by the sheer lack of sense.

[That Guy]

"Coffee is for winners that get early enough to work at what they want. And baby, you ain't got it!" The cloud around Modoka began to thin. Soon the recruit's perceptions could pierce the cloudy veil and see all that was before him. A massive expanse of grass lands that waved in the wind like waves on an ocean. He was standing at the bottom of a valley, and he wasn't alone. Standing all of ten meters away from him was the samurai leaning on his spear heavily, whilst staring back from the shadows of his crimson cowl. His features were still blocked from view but the voice he spoke with was not the one Modoka had heard before.

"You can't tell me what to do anymore!" Even as he spoke and realized how childish he sounded, Modoka suddenly was floating above the scene looking down at himself as a child. The child was now shouting angrily at the hooded samurai, adrenaline and anger wracking his feeble body with uncontrollable trembling. "I've done everything you've done and everything you've told me. I was the best I could be for you!" The child fell to his knees as tears began streaming down his face, "You... you left us. The whole family..."

The samurai shook his head beneath his hood and using his spear as a walking stick made his way across the valley floor. "My son," his voice was gentle now and with his free hand he pulled the hood from his head revealing none other than Modoka's father beneath the hood. "I only did what is expected of any man. Anyone who would've done less couldn't call himself a man and there are none who could've done more..." The father hesitated now before his son as tears streamed down his face as well before kneeling down to take his son in his arms and hug him tight.

"Still, I am sorry."

[That Guy]

Now what the hell was this? A brand new sensation? No, Modoka had felt this before but he just had trouble recognizing it. Oh, it was pain. How Modoka had ever forgotten such a feeling was beyond him, and he looked downwards towards his abdomen (the source of pain) only to find the spear his father once held thrust through his chest. He looked to his father to see tears still streamed down his face but now he was smiling.

With trembling hands his father grabbed hold of the spear shaft and forced Modoka down to the ground flat on his back before stepping onto his chest and holding the spear shaft more like a flag pole. Modoka groaned in agony drowning out the first of his father's words but soon his father's voice grew louder as he stared off into the distance. "Listen to Chiyo, he'll prepare you for what's to come next. After that, seek out Akio."

"What?" Modoka asked, his sensibilities beginning to return to him and the strangeness of the very situation beginning to fully impact him. "Why are you doing this dad? What?.... What's going on?" His father looked down and held a finger to his lips to shush Modoka. A gust of freezing wind blew momentarily before the sun warmed Modoka up again.

As he reached for where the spear had pierced him his father whispered quietly, "I may have been too late. Can you hear them? I can't quite yet but," he paused and his eyes danced along the distant horizon searching. "I know they're coming. Can't you hear them? The hounds..."

A piercing howl tore through the wind and again his father looked down at him and Modoka met his father's gaze. "They are coming son. I will not be the father of a dead man so soon. You must be ready for them." Modoka was confused and annoyed by the whole event but then he saw it. Something so peculiar and strange it stole his attention away completely. How long had the cloud above his father... looked like a face?

[That Guy]

The face-cloud peering down at Modoka from the skies above his father smiled broadly before opening his mouth in a wide smile. From it's mouth wolves leaped out, streaking towards the ground in flames just as Modoka had so previously fallen from the sky. Of course Modoka had already forgotten he had come down from the sky in a similar manner and found himself struck with immense fear at this supernatural phenomenon. Fear was nothing new to the recruit, but this paralyzed him even more than the spear that he grasped with both hands.

The wolves crashed about all around Modoka about fifteen meters in any direction in fiery explosions that shook the very ground beneath Modoka. Modoka looked from the cloud to the face of his father who laughed sadly as tears rolled down his cheeks. The trembles of the ground beneath Modoka's back from the impact of the wolves must have snapped some neural synapse in the young man's brain. He suddenly pistoned the spear from his chest and swung the shaft hurling his father in a somersault over him.

Rolling backwards onto his father's shoulders he slit the man's throat with the spear. He rose up looking about to the crash sites of the wolves as burning embers poured from his father's neck where blood should have been. Ascending from the crash sites of the wolves were men dressed in bizarre hats and robes but Modoka knew them as the kages. They brandished strange weapons he could only assume were customary to the shinobi of the world but proved menacing in appearance alone.

Their mouths covered they circled in around the swordsman from all sides, claws rather than hands gripping their weapons. Their eyes shone with a deep red of greed and hatred. Their faces were masked, but their voices were the howls, snarls, and snapping jaws of wolves. As they closed in closer flames consumed his father's body and the cloud above spoke in a deep melodic voice, "This world... it needs you now Modoka."

"Dad," Modoka finally began through clenched teeth, "If you see Sana tell her I'm sorry but she has to wait a little longer. There so much more work for me to do..." Silence for a moment as the kages howled in unison and charged in from all around. Modoka clenched his fists as humming vibrant blades of light materialized around them, and he charged forward at the first kage in his path...